


Stranger than Fiction

by BaguetteMagiqu7



Series: ours is a twisted love [1]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29769186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaguetteMagiqu7/pseuds/BaguetteMagiqu7
Summary: In which Astarion is jealous of a book, and other fluffy stories.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: ours is a twisted love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187921
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

Amelia sat by the fire, engrossed by the new book that Gale had brought for her from the day’s adventures. She had hardly looked up from its pages at all since she had first cracked it open; even at dinner, her spoon tended to pause halfway between the stew and her mouth as she was transfixed by some turn of the plot. Gale had chuckled, finding it endearing, shaking his head as he finished his own stew. Shadowheart had rolled her eyes but smiled secretly nonetheless. 

Astarion, on the other hand, hated it.

At first, he was glad to have a moment to himself, to read his own book in his settled corner of the camp. He’d never managed to get past the first few chapters because Amelia was always clinging to him, hanging around and fussing over him, and he was properly tired of it. She kept asking him what he was doing or if he wanted her to get him anything or if he was _sure_ he didn’t want a little blood, sometimes plopping next to him and scooting closer inch by inch until their shoulders were touching. The point was that she was stuck to his side like glue every evening from the moment he returned to the camp, and yet, _somehow_ … now that she wasn’t doing any of that at all, he was more distracted than ever. 

His eyes slid off the page, over to where Amelia was by the fire. She had rolled over onto her stomach, a deep flush spreading over her face as she kicked the air with excitement. What could she possibly be reading that had her so excited, to have her reacting in a way that was normally reserved for _him_? It was just a stupid book, what could possibly be so good about it? 

Astarion sidled over and lay down next to her, his shoulder grazing against hers. “What are you reading so intently, my dear?” he asked, lowering his head so he was gazing up at her, his eyes wide and innocent in that way that normally drove her wild. 

“Oh! Astarion,” she smiled at him, but unlike usual, there was no blushing or stammering, and before long her eyes were back on her book. “Gale brought me this new book! It’s about a daughter from a ducal family who falls in love with a necromancer. I can’t believe I hadn’t heard of this one before!” 

“A romance, is it?” he purred, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, brushing her cheek with his finger. There. That would do it -

“Yes! He’s the tyrannical ruler of an undead kingdom and stoic and mysterious, but so handsome, the heroine can’t help but be attracted to him even though she has holy powers that can…” she started summarizing the entire book to him. “And then he tells her that he would slay entire kingdoms if it meant she would be his…”

How could he be handsome?! There weren’t even any pictures in the book, just words! Astarion’s brow crinkled for a moment before smoothing out again, and he leaned over to peek over her shoulder at the text. “Oh? Are there any saucy scenes in it?” He purposefully let out a breath that would tickle at her ears and her neck. 

“What?! No! It’s not like that!” He was immediately shocked by her objection, and she turned and looked him squarely in the eye - she never did that! - with a look of abject horror. “It’s a pure love story! About the depth of their feelings!” She mimicked grasping something in her hand. “Even though he’s got such a tortured past and thinks he’s undeserving of love, her pure feelings reach him and -” 

Astarion only half listened to her rant, more shocked than anything. He had been rebuffed before, certainly; but not by _her_ . She worshipped the ground he walked on. She was desperate for his attention. Her world didn’t revolve around him; he _was_ her world! And now she was distracted by a _book_ of all things?! It didn’t even have anything interesting in it!

Determined not to be bested, he snaked a hand around her waist. “Oh, dear, I apologise. But wouldn’t you rather work on our own romance, darling? You know, I’m feeling a bit peckish… I could go for a little romp, couldn’t you…?”

“Ah… yes,” Amelia replied, though her voice was decidedly less enthusiastic than usual. Her eyes were sliding back to the text, and almost sheepishly she added, “Maybe later, though? I want to see what the heroine is going to choose first… Actually, do you mind, Astarion? I’m trying to read...”

Astarion opened his mouth to object, but they were interrupted by Shadowheart’s sarcastic voice. 

“Astarion, don’t tell me you’re jealous of a _book_ …?”

“What? No!” he replied hotly, getting up to his feet. “I’m not jealous of any _book_ . I just don’t understand why anybody could be so engrossed by a story like _that_ ,” he sniffed, starting to walk away, but he glanced over his shoulder to see how Amelia would react - 

She didn’t. She had apparently not heard him, or maybe she was ignoring them on purpose. Her nose was nearly pressed to the page as she read. 

“I’m not _jealous_. I just thought there were better things we could be doing with our time,” he reiterated, retreating back to his own book. On the way he kicked over a stack of her romance novels. 

“Mature,” Shadowheart sneered, and Astarion huffed, stalking off into the woods to take out his irritation on some prey. 

It wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. He had only been indulging her because she was the baby of the group and the party couldn’t possibly drive him away without her wanting to go with him. It was all just a matter of ensuring his own survival. It was just annoying him to see that she was even simpler and sillier than he thought, being swayed so much by a work of fiction. That was all. She had never been the brightest member of their party and now he had even more disdain for her. That was it. 

Satisfied with this explanation, Astarion headed deeper into the forest to try to convince himself of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Astarion debunks myths about vampirism.

“Astarion?” It was a warm night when Amelia approached him, a balmy breeze brushing at her cheek. She was fidgeting with the ends of one of her braids, twisting it around her finger and then letting go, twisting it again and letting it go. 

“Yes, darling? Do you need something?” he asked in that smooth voice of his that brought color to her cheeks every time. 

“Ah… yes,” she replied before falling silent. She held a book clutched in her free hand, her mouth opening and closing a few times while she searched for the right words to say. 

Astarion waited patiently, more amused than anything by how ruffled he made her just by existing. Whenever her gaze flickered to him, he smiled innocently, like a prince from one of those silly books she was always reading, and it never failed to make her eyes go wide and look away from him with a blush. 

But even he eventually tired of this routine, and he prompted her, “What is it, my dear? Something to do with your book?” 

“Well, yes…” She held up the book, showing it to him. Its title made him freeze, his smiling mask growing cold just for a split second. _Vampires and Their Covens._ Most unlike the mindless romances she usually read.

If she had noticed the change to his expression, she didn’t show it. She was rifling through the pages, flipping to a section that she had marked up with ink. She squirmed over it for a moment before holding it up again, indicating a paragraph towards the bottom of the page. 

“It… it says here that vampires like… like…” Her face was growing redder by the second. 

“Like?” 

“Well, that vampires like… the blood of… and I mean also just in general, they like…”

Astarion’s eye twitched, but she didn’t see it. “Like what?”

“V-virgins!” she finally squeaked. 

There was a silence as they just stared at each other, which Astarion broke with an incredulous laugh. “Virgins,” he repeated. That was what she had been having so much trouble saying? What she had been wasting his time for? “Give me that,” he said, and took the book from her hands without waiting for an answer. 

He could tell immediately that it was a book written by a human or maybe an elf, the point being that it was certainly not written by anybody with any real knowledge of vampires. He flicked through the pages and smirked. 

“Well, I do like virgins. Young and hot-blooded,” he said, snapping the book closed and handing it back to her. Amelia’s face fell as she took it back with both hands. 

“O-oh. Does the… the blood taste different?” 

“Oh, very. It tastes more and more stale the more a person has sex,” he answered seriously, watching her eyes widen. “After a while, it’s just like trying to drink sawdust. Wholly unpleasant.”

“Oh… W-well, what about the person? Do you like them less after th-that too?”

“Oh, yes. They’re much less appealing after that, you know. The things that might have been charming while they were a virgin become annoying, and they haven’t even got the blood to make up for it.” Astarion nodded somberly and leaned closer. “You know, vampires can smell your blood under your skin. A virgin’s is pure and clean. But once they’ve done the deed, well… they start to smell putrid. Quite awful, really.”

“Th-they do?!” Amelia cried, jumping back and trying to take a surreptitious whiff of her own hand. Her chin wobbled and tears were starting to gather in her eyes. “Then… then… what about m-me? Does that mean my blood smells bad now that… now that we’ve d-done it?”

Ah, so that was what she was so panicked about. Astarion hid his smile by stroking his chin. “Hmm. You know, I hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you mention it…” He leaned down and took a long, exaggerated sniff from her neck. “Oh, my. Yes, now that you mention it, there is a bit of a … sour, acrid note to your blood. I’m afraid it’s starting to happen.” He sighed dramatically, looking around the camp and making a motion to leave. “I suppose I’ll have to drink from Shadowheart from now on. _She_ must still be very pure, I’m sure.”

“N-no!” Amelia grabbed his sleeve with a ferocity that he didn’t know she had. “W-wait! There has to be something we can do… Anything!”

“Well… there is _one_ thing…” He looked her up and down. “You can’t go _back_ to being a virgin, as I’m sure you know, but you could stop the process, so to speak.”

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ , my dear, we could stop having sex.” 

A beat. “I… I… I don’t want that either!” Amelia wailed, clutching his sleeve so hard she threatened to tear it. The tears were streaming down her cheeks now, drawing disdainful stares from Shadowheart and looks of disapproval from Wyll and Gale. 

Astarion couldn’t hide it anymore and he laughed out loud, doubling over, wheezing when he saw the look of confusion on her face. Every time he looked up, he burst into more peals of laughter, which went on for a few minutes before he finally calmed down enough to choke out, “I’m just _joking_ , darling. You taste fine. You really need to do something about how gullible you are, you know. It’s going to get you in trouble someday.” Like getting her bled dry by an unscrupulous vampire, for example. 

She sniffed, looking up at him. “What about all that other stuff…? Is it true that you like d-doing it with virgins more?” 

“I suppose - there’s something to be said about molding them to my tastes. Much like I’m doing with you now, my dear.” He grinned impishly and wiped a tear from her cheek with his finger. “Now go clean your face. You look _terrible_.” And with that, he turned and walked away laughing into the woods. 

Behind him, Amelia stared at his retreating figure, her hand pressed to her face where he had touched it. 

**Author's Note:**

> May or may not have been inspired by my cat.


End file.
